


One Day

by icecreamsuki



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M, Shinigami-kun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1973184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icecreamsuki/pseuds/icecreamsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If a shinigami told you that you only have one day left, would you try to win that shinigami’s heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day

**Author's Note:**

> written for airairo for the 2014 ninoexchange  
> the original work is here: http://ninoexchange.livejournal.com/38856.html

He had deliberately chosen to hang out at a mall that morning. And he had carefully chosen that particular time of the day. 11 AM – a time when salespeople at the stores had settled down after stall-opening preparations for the day, a time when office ladies and gentlemen grabbed a quick lunch to evade the noontime rush, a time when housewives crammed for last minute grocery shopping. It was a time when one got adequate personal space in the mall such that when they looked up from their gadgets and tried to mind their surroundings for a while, they would surely notice a queer sight: a guy in his late twenties wearing baggy jeans, a casual white shirt, sneakers and a side-turned cap eating directly from a jar of mayonnaise with a happy twinkle in his eyes and the corners of his lips upturned. One could almost hear the satisfied moans coming from him as he devoured the treat, spoonful after spoonful. 

Eyebrows were raised. Jaws were dropped. Shudders were made. And somewhere in the background, a retching sound. 

The guy acted nonchalant about the elicited response from the people, acting casual but inwardly enjoying it. It was what he had been hoping for. 

-=-

It started as a spontaneous idea after he ended up watching a cooking show while flipping through all the boring channels on cable that afternoon. He had a pitiful sandwich in his hands, stuffed with a wide variety of ingredients such as withering lettuce, overripe tomatoes and slices of overstayed-its-welcome-in-the-refrigerator ham. He was a considerably picky eater but after getting through the weekend with only green tea and crackers, his hunger took its toll on him. Being lazy, he made do with anything that was in the refrigerator. Ordering for food delivery was out of the question since he wasn't in the mood to deal with possible inefficiencies. Besides, by eyeballing, he was largely content with what his refrigerator had to offer. 

He must have used a more than ample amount of mayonnaise since at the first bite, the juice (a mixture of mayo, ketchup, and the moisture of the veggies) was seeping out through the edges of the bread, dripping on his two-day old shorts. He stared at the stain on his shorts for a while, unable to fully process what had just occurred. Perhaps days of being cooped up at home had somehow retarded his cognitive faculties. On the other hand, perhaps it was a blessing from the heavens; he finally had a reason to change his clothes. 

He looked back up at the television and found the host tasting the vanilla pudding that the guest concocted. The texture. The color. The apparent goodness. 

Mayonnaise and vanilla pudding. Vanilla pudding and mayonnaise. 

And then it clicked. His penchant for mischief was still intact after all. 

-=-

Just as he was relishing in his victory – of people being creeped out by the sight of someone snacking on a jar of mayo (craftily made to appear as such but was actually vanilla pudding), someone spoke up from beside him. “Congratulations! You have been chosen to leave the planet earth!”

“What, you mean there's some kind of promo for people to go to space?” It must be a good season for pranks, he thought, for here was another person playing a joke on him. Nino just went with the flow and waited to see where it would lead. He looked at the person from toe to head. Fancy black and white shoes, black socks, short-but-not-quite-three-fourths black pants, a white bow tie, black jacket and a comical round black hat. Upon Nino’s appraisal, he was probably a television show host, a character from a carnival, a street performer, a cosplay fanatic, or an escapee from a mental institution. He suspiciously searched the perimeter for hidden cameras anywhere. Nino took pride in his ability to play pranks, and he couldn’t possibly lose to someone so glaringly suspicious and silly looking. It was almost like an insult to his craft.

Quick-minded, in a flash, Nino grabbed the other guy’s wrist and dashed to the nearest store. Oddly enough, the other guy complied and joined running without much complaint. 

Nino was panting when they reached their stop but the other guy seemed adequately rested, albeit confused. “What year is it?” Nino asked loudly, panting in the wake of his sprint, piquing the interest of the people around. There was a halt in their clothes-buying as they watched the commotion.

Despite the utter weirdness of the question, the saleslady composed herself after a brief moment of panic. “2014,” she answered without even batting an eyelash. She must have had her fair share of eccentric customers that such an occurrence was not extraordinary. 

“It worked!” Eyes transforming into giant saucers, Nino screamed and hopped and skipped and jumped. He was lucky he had a face of a kid – someone who could pass as a teenager. He bounced and bounced and ended up being face to face with a ten year old kid pointing at him while looking at his mama, curious about what was going on. Nino dramatically knelt in front of the boy and gently tapped his shoulders, “It worked, kiddo! Time travelling is real!” He said, and bounced away. 

“Come to think of it, where did that strange guy go?” Nino muttered as he headed back home to prepare for his next mission. 

-=-

“I’m sorry for appearing without warning. I’m this,” he said handing Nino a business card. It was indeed without warning when someone appeared beside Nino just as he was about to enter his apartment.

“Congratulations, Ninomiya Kazunari-san,” he said with a polite bow. “Your name was written in the list of people scheduled to die.” At this, Nino looked up and found that it was indeed the same person he saw at the mall earlier that day. “So I’ve come for you,” the comical looking guy finished simply. 

Nino stared at the card that was handed to him. There were two large characters in the middle that spelled out shinigami. Death God. Soul-reaper. 

“Ah, well,” the alleged shinigami continued, apparently oblivious to the current inner workings of Nino’s mind. “I know there are people afraid of death, but anyway, my job is to inform you of your fate,” he finished with a pleasant smile. 

While the shinigami was busy with his little and seemingly well-rehearsed speech, Nino’s head was already turning to every nook and cranny in the hallway of his apartment. A hole in the ceiling, a gap in the doors, the edges of the potted plants that adorned the hallway – he had a swift inspection of each possibility. He was not obsessive-compulsive, but he was observant enough to know what belonged where and what the odd one out would be. While he was engrossed in his little detective game, the shinigami finally noticed that he was being ignored. “Uhm, excuse me?” The shinigami asked pleasantly while Nino eyed him in blatant suspicion. “What are you looking for?”

Nothing. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary. In retrospect, he didn’t even hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. As he was starting to get more and more impressed by the “shinigami’s” craftiness, he was also getting more and more frustrated that he couldn’t figure out the trick. Besides, the calmness that the “shinigami” was exuding was beyond him. If it were Nino, he would have burst into laughter and spilled the beans right away once he was satisfied with the initial reaction. This “shinigami” seemed to enjoy dragging things out. With the intention of getting to the bottom of things, he decided to play along. 

“Shinigami, huh?” Nino said, dragging out the last syllable to create an air of wonder and awe. “So you're like serial killer then,” he concluded playfully. 

“I’m a shinigami,” he replied pointing to the business card that was still in Nino’s hands.

“But you’re kind,” Nino persisted with the direction the conversation was going. “At least you tell people beforehand that you’re going to kill them,” he said as he glanced at the card once again before letting it settle on the table after he entered his apartment with the shinigami in tow, passively letting him in.

“Like I said, I’m a shinigami.” He was already starting to get exasperated, Nino noticed. The alleged ‘shinigami’ appeared like he wasn’t whole-heartedly into what he was doing, and given the choice, he seemed like he would want to just leave, feeling that what he was doing was a mere punishment game.

Noticing this, Nino decided to tease him even more. 

“So tell me,” Nino lowered his voice and leaned in conspiratorially. “The people you have killed so far - what were they like?” 

“Ah, that is classified information I’m not allowed to reveal,” the shinigami replied with another pleasant smile.

“Ah, of course. A serial killer is not allowed to reveal his exploits. And nor will you reveal your true identity, I believe.”

“Like I said, and like what is written in the card I gave you, I’m Shinigami number 413,” 

“Yon ichi san,” Nino repeated, lost in his thoughts. “Is there any significance with that number? Like were you born on April 13? Or were you born 4:13? How are shinigamis even born? Do you have parents too?”

There was a shift in the shinigami’s countenance – upset, defensive and genuinely bothered. It was just a subtle change in aura but it didn’t escape Nino’s keen perception. A change of topic was due. “It’s amazing, though. While I can travel through time, there’s someone who can teleport. And you can even pass through walls,” Nino said, referring to how sneaky and creepy it was to have someone suddenly appear before him while he was entering his apartment. “If one of my last wishes is to rob a bank, will you lend a hand?”

“Ah, I have read from your file that you have a certain fondness for money,” he said as he rubbed his chin, appearing to be racking his brains trying to remember something. Nino wasn’t sure if that momentary change in mood earlier was just his imagination. Either way, he was glad the shinigami was back to how he had been earlier. 

Nino chuckled. “Fondness? Well, that’s an interesting way of putting it,” he said as he lay down on his own couch, making himself comfortable now that his company was less of a stranger but still strange nevertheless. It was strange even to Nino that despite the utter strangeness of the guy (and despite the fact that he could really be a serial killer), Nino still let him into his home.

“I wonder what else is written in my file. I wonder if it’s accurate.” The shinigami glanced at him curiously, as if he was trying to get to know the real him and not the person who was described in those files. “And it’s creepy that you know a lot about me but I don’t know anything about you.” Nino gave his companion a look – narrow eyes exuding suspicion and a warning. 

“Like I said, I’m Shinigami number 413.”

“And like I said, that doesn’t mean anything.” Nino sat up and reached for the business card on the table to inspect it once again. “You know, I have a friend who loves to make nicknames for everyone. And I mean everyone – people, animals, plants and even inanimate objects. He even has a nickname for his favourite underwear, that guy.” The shinigami had a wacky expression of disbelief on his face.

“Wha-” The look of eagerness on the shinigami’s face was a dead giveaway that he was about to ask the nickname of the underwear to satisfy his curiosity. Nino immediately cut him off. 

“Gami-kun.”

“What?” he asked, somewhat flustered. 

“That’s your new name,” Nino stated confidently.

“Gami… kun. Gami-kun.” The shinigami tried out his new name, repeating it to get accustomed even though that name would disappear soon, along with the existence of the name’s creator. “It’s not very creative, is it?” the shinigami, or Gami-kun rather, teased.

“You remind me of my friend; he has a gummy smile. And he’s as clueless as you, or you’re as clueless as him, whichever.” Nino spoke quickly and waved his hand dismissively, afraid that dragging the topic out would leave him embarrassed. Instead, he wanted to be direct and get to the bottom of things.

“So, when will I die?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“One more day, huh?”

“Yup, one day more.”

“Do people get to decide how they are going to die?”

“No, everything has been predetermined.”

“I see. So what exactly is your purpose, then?” 

“I am here to help you have a smooth transition to the afterlife, making sure you have no regrets, making sure that you have accomplished everything you wanted,” Gami-kun said with a straight chest. He seemed to be really proud of his work. 

“So you are like a genie – granting wishes,” Nino said. He didn’t expect such statement to earn a shudder from the shinigami. 

“No!” He shook his head vehemently with a hint of fear. “Shinigamis do not grant wishes. That is a different entity altogether.”

Gami-kun still appeared visibly shaken so Nino veered the topic away from dangerous waters. He seemed to be doing that a lot when it came to the shinigami. “Well anyway, I have always wanted to have a shinigami for a pet,” Nino stated sweetly as he carefully observed Gami-kun’s reaction.

“That is a little bit impossible,” Gami-kun said hesitantly. He seemed torn and confused, Nino observed. Perhaps it was the first time a human had requested something like that. No, scratch that – an ordinary human would definitely never ask something like that. 

“A little bit? If it’s a little bit impossible, then it’s a huge bit possible,” Nino said indignantly with arms crossed, apparently proud of his logic. “Isn’t it your job to make sure humans have no regrets as they pass to the afterlife?” If the logic card wouldn’t work, he would play his guilt card. “My last wish is to have a shinigami for a pet until I die. It’s as simple as that; I’m not asking you to rob a bank or anything.” 

As Gami-kun still seemed hesitant to agree, Nino decided to turn to his last resort: the pity card, or as he sometimes put it, the charm card. It never failed on humans, but he had never tried it on a shinigami before (and thank goodness for that).

“You’re persistent, aren’t you?” Gami-kun said with a sigh as if in surrender. 

Nino smirked playfully. “Wasn’t that written in the file they gave you?” 

-=-

Nino jumped out of bed and set up the Xbox in the living room. He brought out another controller for this special occasional. It had been a year since he’d had someone to play with. It had been a year of 1 player vs. computer, which was usually fun, but lonely and boring at times. Finally, he had someone. 

“Do you have games in the shinigami world?” Nino suddenly asked as he was untangling the cords – a sign of months of neglect. “I mean, what do you usually do when you don’t go killing off humans?”

Gami-kun didn’t bother correcting the sarcasm anymore. “Sleeping! I like sleeping,” he said dreamily, probably imagining all the sleep he could get after completing this assignment.

“Yeah, I bet you chose sleep over studying my file,” Nino teased. “But don’t worry. You have one day to get to know me more.” Saying it out loud made it seem more real. One day. 

-=-

“Have you ever had to help a child pass over to the other life?” Nino suddenly asked as he was cozying up on his couch, munching on a pack of Pocky without even having the politeness to offer one to his present companion. “A newborn, or all right, a child.” He glanced at Gami-kun who was resting his head on the back of the couch after he had been staring curiously at Nino’s snack for minutes. “I mean, how can he even ask for anything? All he had ever done on earth was cry and eat and sleep.”

Nino was a tad bit demanding but not blaming. He was emotional but not upset. “Isn’t that cruel?” 

“I haven’t encountered something like that,” Gami-kun answered solemnly. In fact, the idea had never crossed his mind. 

“Yeah, but you will in the future,” Nino said confidently, as if fully knowledgeable of the workings of the shinigami world. Gami-kun wanted to reply ‘Maybe not,’ but held back. It was not the right time. 

“So I guess in a way I’m still lucky. Luckier than those kids at least,” Nino said softly, as if his words were a prayer for those innocent souls. Nino sat up and looked straight at Gami-kun. “Out of all the shinigamis, I’m glad it’s you.” His smile was that of contentment and hope, and something that couldn’t possibly be described in the file that was given to Gami-kun for this assignment. It felt so human, Gami-kun observed. 

“413 must be my lucky number.” Nino was already down to his last stick of Pocky. “I should try a variation of that number in the lottery. What would I do if I won?” Nino was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice a certain upturn of eyebrows, a certain millimetres of jawdrop, and a certain frown of frustration. Gami-kun was already trying to make himself obvious to no avail. That silly human – not noticing the things that he should be noticing, yet having the uncanny ability to notice the little things. 

“Haven’t you ever wished to become human?” Nino asked after the last trace of that pack of Pocky was erased from the planet earth. “It’s a common theme for dramas, see? A robot steadily developing feelings and wanting to be human.”

“But I’m not a robot. I’m a shinigami, all right? How many time do I have to –”

“Besides, if you become human, you’d be able to taste all the good food in the human world. I bet you’ll enjoy it.”

“What makes you think I’ll enjoy that?” Gami-kun commented grumpily. 

“You have the aura of someone who appreciates food. Your chubby cheeked face is a giveaway.” Nino chuckled as he took those cheeks between his fingers and gave a hearty pinch. 

“Iiiit huuurts,” Gami-kun mumbled. His words were unclear as his face was stretched. As he was freed from the evil clutches of Nino’s fingers, he said, “You say that, but you didn’t even offer me your snack.”

Nino blinked once. Nino blinked twice. “You wanted to taste my snack?” 

Unable to forget the idea that the human before him was a prankster and a brat who had shown him bizarre social experiments, Gami-kun thought, ‘Is he trying to play dumb?’

The confused expression on Nino was replaced by a certain gleam. “I’ll get another pack.” 

Gami-kun remained still and simply stared at Nino’s retreating form, pondering over the series of events that had transpired that day. It was the first time a human got interested about him. It was the only time. In all his previous assignments, it was always about humans. It was always about cramming things to do into a short amount of time. It was the first time he was able to sit back and just enjoy the company of the scheduled-to-die. It was the first time he had sincerely appreciated the company of a human being. 

“Do you know the proper way of eating Pocky?” Nino said excitedly as he returned to his spot after tearing open the new pack. Gami-kun was awoken from his musings by Nino’s arrival, partly feeling guilty for spacing out and deciding to make up for it. “Don’t you just eat it normally as it is?”

“That is when you’re alone,” he said, eating a stick as he normally did, keeping the pack away from Gami-kun’s reach. He felt an explanation was necessary before they proceeded. “It’s different when two people are sharing a pack of Pocky,” Nino said, looking straight into Gami-kun’s eyes for emphasis. “There is a tradition, or rather a game, you see,” Nino said as he put the chocolateless end of the stick into his mouth and bit it off, leaving a stick covered entirely with chocolate. “We bite both ends and the one who still has the last bit of Pocky wins.”

Gami-kun merely nodded eagerly. He liked games. He hadn’t played games in quite a while, but that was basically because he had no one to play with. Friendship and companionship were not common in the shinigami world. It was all about work, trying to accomplish assignment after assignment, and trying to violate as few rules as possible. He was starting to get weary. 

-=-

“Ready?” Nino asked with an air of confidence and excitement. 

Gami-kun nodded decisively and then they were at it, stick after stick, as the pack was steadily getting lighter. Nino had the crafty strategy of swiftly leaning back the moment Gami-kun bit off his share. Nino had good timing despite this being his first game, considering that he invented the game just then. Saying that it was a tradition had some truth to it since it was a product of the prankster Nino phenomenon – the need for daily dose of pranks to lighten each day. 

“If didn’t know better, I would think you’re just trying to kiss me,” Gami-kun laughed as he delightedly chewed on the chocolate covered bread stick. 

“What if I am?” Nino challenged. He carefully watched how the corners of Gami-kun’s eyes creased as he laughed. And the wrinkling of his nose was just adorable to Nino. 

“For a shinigami, I think you’re cute.”

Gami-kun just pursed his lips and looked up. Was he mulling about what Nino said? Or was he just trying to appear indifferent about the embarrassing comment? Nino was renowned for the ability to read the atmosphere in the blink of an eye; it turned out shinigamis were not the same as humans after all. 

Nino sighed. “I guess it’s something unique to humans huh?” 

“Eh? What?” Nino was leaning toward the conclusion that the shinigami was indeed clueless.

“Blushing.” 

Gami-kun must have figured out what was happening. “I have read your file. It said you were popular with girls.” 

Nino leaned in, face close. Close. Closer. Flustered, Gami-kun floated and settled on the top of Nino’s cabinet. He was satisfied to have an effect on the shinigami – deeply satisfied, indeed.

“All right. My goal before I die is to make you blush. And you have no choice but to fulfil it since you’re my shinigami,” Nino said smugly, proud of his very own Nino logic. 

Gami-kun groaned. 

-=-

Gami-kun was wandering, pondering over what Nino said when he happened to stumble upon a cosmetics store. Because of their giggles and flails, he found a group of girls excitedly trying on different materials – one they use to color their lips pink, one they use to paint their eyelids, and one they use to color their cheeks. 

Amidst the chaos, the words “Cute!” and “blush” made his ears perk up. So that was what a blush was all about, he thought. He picked up one little circular pack – the one that the girls used to apply on their cheeks – and inspected it. Suddenly, without warning, he found one of the salesladies shrieking and pointing at him. In the real world, she must have been pointing at a “blush” package that was floating in the air. Torn between the desire to accomplish his mission and the responsibility to keep the human world sane, he made a run for it (or rather a fly, a soar, a float in the air) before the witness could make an even bigger ruckus. 

-

To avoid giving Nino a shock, Gami-kun entered through the door like a normal human being would. He wanted to have a casual entrance but he seemed to have a flare for the grand without even trying. He bumped his little toe against the edge of the door (yes, he removed his shoes at the front entrance like a normal human being would because Nino reprimanded him the first time) and he growled in pain. He quickly placed a hand on his mouth to contain the noise, but the pain was intense to the point of tears. 

Do shinigamis normally feel pain?

-

Nino quickly turned around in concern, but as he watched the scene at his door, he was torn between wanting to burst into laughter and worrying, but the former seemed to have won, bratty prankster that he was. He howled in laughter at the sight, not because of Gami-kun’s pain but because of the revelation of the product of Gami-kun’s efforts. 

There was a shade of bright pink, circular, on both of Gami-kun’s cheeks, making him appear like a mascot or a low-budget clown. It was endearing - the effort he put into fulfilling Nino’s petty wishes, how lost and confused he was with the deeper workings of the human world, and just simply being simple-minded and engaging. 

In a second, without hesitation, Nino leaned in and pressed his lips against Gami-kun’s nose. 

It was quick. It was a spur of the moment decision. It was something that had to be done.

Gami-kun had a wistful expression on his face, coupled with the circles of bright pink on his cheeks. The pouty expression of his lips made Nino want to have another go, but he held himself back. He wanted to save it for another occasion. Despite being hours from death, he knew there would be another occasion. He just knew it. 

-

It was quick. It was sudden. It was something out of his world. 

Gami-kun’s heart skipped a beat that instant. That has never happened before. 

Do shinigamis have hearts like humans do? 

-=-

“Don’t you have things left to do? You still have tomorrow,” Gami-kun encouraged while Nino was getting ready to sleep, smoothing out the sheet despite the fact that he’d wrinkle them anyway once he’d lied down.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t think too much about the future that I don’t have regrets.” Nino shrugged. “I just live in the present. I say what I want. I do what I want. I live how I want.”   
Somehow, Gami-kun just couldn’t accept that reply. “What, you feel like you didn’t get to do your job properly if I don’t have things left to do?”

“Yeah, they might say I didn’t get to help you too much. I'm the type who always gets scolded by my senior, you know?” He said, trying not to reveal the frustration he had on himself. 

“Perhaps you should just quit if you're so bad at it,” Nino said with a noncommittal shrug. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he let out in a whisper that had a tad mix of frustration and sadness. And then, perhaps due to exhaustion for the day’s happenings as well, Nino fell asleep right away, leaving Gami-kun to his own thoughts. 

He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed as he brought out his shinigami notebook once again. All of his former assignments had the cause of death appearing on the shinigami notebook right beside the name. This time, strangely enough, the space was left blank, which was why no matter how much Nino pestered him into revealing the cause of death, Gami-kun had nothing to say for he himself didn't know it. He had been intermittently glancing at his notebook for any new developments. 

Still, there was none. It was the first time he’d encountered something like this. Perhaps he should consult his supervisor, he thought.

-=-

“Assignment change petition?” Gami-kun indignantly asked. "You requested to be assigned to a different shinigami?" 

“What are you angry about? Do you want to be with me that badly?” His supervisor sneered. "You can't reveal too much to a human about our world, scum!" she said, spitting disdain right into his ear. "That is one of the basic rules for being a shinigami. What's with that Ninomiya anyway? You seem too charmed by him. You can’t do your shinigami duties if you have compassion for humans.”

“What? I was just simply helping him have a peaceful transition to the afterlife – that is essentially what my duty is!” 

“You're hopeless! We are close to extinction just because of your recklessness and stupidity.” She replied heatedly. 

“I'm not ready for that.” Fear was evident in the way she whispered. Despite the harshness of her words, Gami-kun understood. In fact, he understood the situation too well. In retrospect, it was always his supervisor who was taking the blow for his mistakes. Despite her cruel exterior, she had been constantly looking after him. It was not fair that she had to suffer as well. 

“Come with me.” The Chief intervened in their bickering. 

He led them to a huge hallway full of candles of different heights. 

“Shinigamis have a lifespan too. The candles show the lifespan of shinigamis. It will be shortened in proportion to the mistakes they make and the rules they violate,” the Chief said, looking Shinigami number 413 in the eyes for emphasis. After a while he stopped in his tracks and gestured toward one of the candles. Upon looking more closely, there it was. Number 413. Gami-kun noticed that it was more than halfway shorter than all the candles surrounding it. 

“To put it simply, by having mercy on humans, or worse, by being too comfortable with them and revealing the secrets of the shinigami world, your candle dwindles. Your lifespan gets shorter,” the supervisor said harshly but with a tinge of pity.

“What happens when the lifespan ends?” Gami-kun wanted to know. He had to know. 

“That shinigami disappears.”

-=-

“It’s morning!” Gami-kun greeted with such high spirits as he turned to draw the curtain, letting the light in. Nino groaned at the apparent disrespect for his sleeping privileges. ‘Besides, if he was going to die that day, shouldn’t he have the freedom to decide how he wanted to spend it, and in particular, what time he wanted to grace the world with his fully-awake presence?’ Nino thought.

“Aren’t you going to go out?” Gami-kun asked with his usual cheerful air. Nino didn’t move and fell back into an even deeper sleep. 

Gami-kun shook his legs, and then shook his shoulders. He even poked him in the side. Nino’s eyes remained shut. Yet despite the reluctance to open his eyes, Nino was actually awake, reflecting on several things. He wanted to appear asleep just to have time to think things over without the constant watch of his shinigami. However, his plan seemed to have backfired as Gami-kun’s intent to wake him up grew stronger the more he continued feigning sleep. 

“Come on. Don’t you have anything you want to do before you die?” Frustration colored his voice.   
Nino shrugged and said tiredly, “What do you want me to do?”

“Don’t give up! Make the most out of this day! If you don’t want to go out then let’s just stay here. I’m still your pet after all.” Nino threw a regretful expression at Gami-kun as he said this. Luckily, the shinigami was looking away, fishing for the controllers for the Wii. He shoved the white rectangular controller in Nino’s hand after turning on the game. 

“So, how does this work?” Nino snorted. Gami-kun was being his classic self – lost and confused with the workings of the human world. 

“It’s Wii baseball.” The confused expression on Gami-kun’s face did not waver. “You just pretend you’re holding a bat. You just swing your arms to hit the ball.” The setting was that they were in the same team, and Nino was next to bat after Gami-kun. The first one was a strike. At the second ball, Gami-kun swung his bat but missing the ball by a glaring handspan. The third was a ball that landed smoothly on the catcher’s glove due to Gami-kun’s two-seconds-too-late swing. 

“What are you doing? You have to swing to hit the ball! Don’t just swing the bat for the sake of swinging!” Nino was being impatient and he knew it. He couldn’t help it, though. The thought that he only had a few hours left was driving him to panic. 

“You suck at this,” Nino spat meanly. He brusquely threw his controller on the living room table to retreat back to his room. 

As he lay back down on his bed after returning to the reclusion that was his room, Nino had time to reflect on recent events. He felt guilty leaving Gami-kun just like that, yet he felt that having privacy and some space was a matter of life and death, pun intended. 

Remembering the events of the previous night couldn’t leave him in peace. Perhaps it was only just a dream that another shinigami appeared before him, this time a lady with a charmingly harsh personality who introduced herself as Gami-kun’s supervisor. She didn’t call him Gami-kun, just Shinigami number 413, his original name from his original world. She told him things: from how Gami-kun had been apparently violating the rules of the shinigami world by being close to Nino, to the state of Shinigami number 413’s lifespan, and to the warning that Nino shouldn’t get involved with Number 413 too much. Nino listened intently, not daring to interrupt, keeping his usual bratty self at bay. 

And Nino had one question after her speech – only one question, which the supervisor refused to answer.

“Can’t shinigamis become human when they die?”

Yet, Nino realized, what was the point if he’d die first? 

-=-

It was too much for Gami-kun. He already had a fair scolding from his boss, and now even a human was criticizing his capabilities. Perhaps he really was not capable of being a shinigami. He felt genuinely miserable as he picked up the controllers, turned off the game and put the stuff back into the box – back into oblivion. 

However, after thinking things through, he knew it wasn’t the right time to be wallowing in self-pity. He had barely a few hours to remedy the situation they were in, and the only one who had the power to fix things was him. 

He researched, wanting to believe that shinigamis could become human once their light extinguishes. There had to be something like that in the literature! Wasn’t turning into a human with numbered days a form of punishment? He felt he had heard a similar story back in his childhood – a misbehaving shinigami banished and thrown to the human world to experience the pains of being a human. Although for Gami-kun, it was something he would willingly throw himself into.

He also searched for a clause that stated that shinigamis could choose to sever bonds from their supervisors, and the latter would not be held accountable for that decision or any actions or misses that occurred thereafter. He searched and searched. 

He was in the library, which he very seldom went to, yet this time was an exception. After carefully searching through piles of books, he found what he was looking for. He just had to consult the chief for verification. On his way to the chief’s desk, there at the end of the aisle was his supervisor also carrying a book in her hands. She had a determined expression on her face, probably the same as his at that moment. As he sped up his walk, she also did, quickly diminishing their distance from the Chief’s table. 

“Chief, I would like to talk to you alone,” Gami-kun said seriously. For once, he was able to outspeed his supervisor at something. 

She eyed him suspiciously. “I would like to talk to you alone as well, Chief,” she said.

The seriousness and determination in both of their eyes struck the Chief. He knew he had to be careful in handling the situation. “All right.” 

“All right.”

-=-

It was just one day yet it was a rollercoaster ride. 

Nino was walking like how he normally did when he wanted to be alone. He wanted to think about what transpired about an hour ago.

-

He was isolating himself inside his room, lights off, with only his DS for company when all too suddenly, the lights turned on, doing awful things to his vision. 

He found himself face to face with a young lady wearing a woolly coat, and wearing a strange, bulky, feathery thing on her head. She was wearing all black. The mere suddenness of the appearance and the strangeness of the costume were dead giveaway that she was also from where Gami-kun came from. 

“You are Ninomiya Kazunari-san, right?” She looked at him disapprovingly, like he had misbehaved without him knowing it. 

“Yes,” Nino replied more confidently than he felt. 

“I believe you have met Shinigami number 413, and he told you that you are going to die today, is that right?” Nino gave a curt nod as he stared at her. He felt like he was in court being interrogated by a prosecutor. 

She seemed awfully familiar. He had seen her before in his dreams.

She continued her speech. “The thing is, there was a discrepancy in what was written in the official list of those scheduled to die and Shinigami number 413’s notebook.” She was looking around the room and happened to find the wall adorned with cartoon pictures of Nino. The art had a style so peculiar that she was almost a hundred percent sure who made them. 

“Unfortunately, it is not your time to die yet,” she finished simply. A hint of a smile graced her lips for a second.

And then she transformed into a crow and flew out the window of Nino’s room. 

-

It was all too sudden. One minute, he was psyching himself up to face death, the next minute he was being given an extension, uncertain perhaps but it was an extension nonetheless. He knew he had to get out of the house to think. 

Nino was treading on his usual route when he found that his favourite bench in the park was currently occupied. It was someone around his age, wearing a simple round-neck plain black T-shirt, loose khaki pants and sneakers. The stranger had his eyes turned towards the field, eyes intent on the workings of the baseball game being played by high school students. The expression on his face was that of longing and nostalgia.

It was human custom that it was rude to stare (or at least openly stare) at someone yet it felt surreal to Nino, and he figured perhaps staring would make things real. He wanted to verify what was before his eyes. He wanted to confirm before expecting too much. Having a doppelganger was not rare; someone could easily mistake someone for someone else. 

Still, the similarity was glaring: the same chubby cheeks that were once adorned with bright pink blush-on for a while, the same pouty lips when he was learning something new about the human world, and the Pocky – the Pocky in his hands that was making its way to his mouth. 

Nino quietly sat on the other side of the bench that was made for two, and for once, he wasn’t sure of himself. He was uncertain how to act, or what to say. Perhaps his near death experienced had changed him. 

“I got fired from my previous job.” It was the stranger who first opened up. 

Nino’s heart softened upon hearing the striking familiarity of that voice. 

“Oh. And what kind of job was that?” Nino asked, still unsure but gaining more confidence. 

“A serial killer,” the stranger said referring to their earlier conversations. He turned to look at Nino with a Pocky stick between his lips. 

“Good. Perhaps you sucked at your job, and that’s why they fired you,” Nino said, now with renewed confidence at the certainty that this was indeed Gami-kun, despite the costume change. He leaned in towards the Pocky stick but the former-shinigami was quick in drawing the stick into his mouth. He grinned smugly. “I practiced.” 

“Hey, maybe this could be your new life: joining Pocky eating contests. You can earn a considerable amount of money from that, you know,” Nino said calculating in his head. 

“Money again, huh? I guess I couldn’t help you rob a bank this time,” Gami-kun said with a hint of fake remorse. 

“What do you plan to do then?”

“You said your last wish was to have a shinigami for a pet until you die,” Gami-kun said, glancing at Nino, seemingly nervous at what the conversation was leading to. “As far as I can see, you’re not dead yet.”

“I’m still very much alive, thanks to you,” Nino said cheekily. He understood what Gami-kun was getting at and he was elated about it, but an idea sparked again. He was back to his old mischievous self. 

“However,” Nino said, pausing for more dramatic flair, “I said I wanted a shinigami. You’re not a shinigami anymore,” Nino pointed out clearly. 

-

Gami-kun frowned at Nino’s logic. As seconds rolled by, the possibility that he wasn’t wanted anymore and that he was only considering himself too important was boiling panic in his chest. It was almost suffocating. 

“Well,” Gami-kun started, still unsettled by Nino’s reply. “Well, perhaps I could join Pocky eating contests and save the money for myself,” Gami-kun muttered. He was starting to get frustrated that Nino was being so unfair and downright ridiculous. There he was subtly professing his fondness yet Nino was effortlessly shutting him down. Gaining more confidence, he said, “I’ll save all the money for myself even if you’re the one who taught me how to eat it, or taught me how to play baseball even though I suck at it, or taught me how to blush, or...” Gami-kun’s little tirade was cut off when Nino gave him a quick peck on the nose. 

“Actually, I didn’t teach you how to blush. And for future reference, painting pink makeup on your cheeks does not count as blushing,” Nino winked. 

“Besides, not being a shinigami anymore means that you don’t have super powers in your arsenal to escape the wrath of my kiss.” Nino knew it was right to save their first real kiss. Somehow, he just knew this moment would come. 

“I don’t want to escape it anyway,” Gami-kun whispered in awe after being thoroughly kissed.  
Nino’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. 

A blush. A real blush. 

“Good.”


End file.
